


Lifelines

by mithrel



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Slash, Season/Series 02, Sharing a Bed, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Touch-Starved Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: When things get bad enough, Shiro finally talks to someone.  That someone is Keith.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it's another WIP. I'm still working on the other one, don't worry.

It’s getting bad. Like…really bad. He can feel the pressure in his chest building from the screams he can’t voice.

He needs to talk to someone. But it’s not like he has a lot of choices, and they’re all so _young_. So young and they’ve taken on so much already… _You’re not exactly a graybeard yourself_ , part of him whispers. He shushes it.

He should talk to Coran, he knows. He’s the logical choice: he’s adult, was in the military, and has personal experience with Galra atrocities.

But the thought of talking to Coran about this makes his insides dissolve.

Still, he has to talk to someone, so he goes to the one person who he thinks he can talk to about this without his mouth going dry and his throat closing up.

***

He finds Keith in the control room, fiddling with something on the panel.

Now all he has to do is open his mouth, say the words. Just a few short words. He opens his mouth. “Can I…” His voice creaks. He coughs, tries again. “I need your help.”

Keith looks up immediately, concern in his eyes. “What can I do?”

The words come slightly easier this time, but they’re still glass in his throat. “Can we talk? Privately?”

Keith nods, getting up. “Sure, come on.”

***

Once they’re in his room, Shiro fidgets, sitting on the bed, standing up again, clenching his fists.

Keith gives him some time, sitting on a chair across from him, but finally prompts, “You wanted to talk?”

He collapses on the bed, his muscles cut, buries his hands in his hair. “No.”

Keith’s brows furrow, so he elaborates. “I don’t want to talk,” he sighs. “But I need to.”

Keith’s eyes light with understanding, but Shiro’s still not sure about this. “If…if you’d prefer me to talk to Coran–“

“No!” Keith puts a fist to his mouth, looking embarrassed at his vehemence. “No, that’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He feels a bit of the tension drain from him. “How much do you know?”

Keith shifts, uncomfortably. “Not much. Just what you’ve told me.”

Of course. No easy way out then. He might as well rip the Band-Aid off. “We were on Kerberos, Matt and Sam and me, collecting core samples…”

***

Keith listens patiently, not interrupting. When Shiro gets to his interview with Zarkon he stalls out, until Keith gets up and sits next to him on the bed, and then he’s able to continue.

“They threw me in a cell, left me there for…hours maybe? Days? I’m not sure.” He swallows the bile down. “Then the guards came for me and…I met Haggar.”

Only Keith’s hand on his shoulder allows him to continue. “She asked me questions, about Earth, about our military, if we’d made contact with aliens before this. I knew I couldn’t tell her.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “She…hurt me.” It was all a smear of pain and a garble of words, until… “I told her everything.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Shiro,” Keith says, speaking for the first time, and Shiro knows that, logically he knows there’s nothing else he could have done, but… He was the leader of the mission, the Garrison’s Golden Boy, he wasn’t supposed to crumple like a leaf at the first hint of pain.

“After she’d learned everything, they threw me back in the cell. They left me so long I thought they’d forgotten about me…” A bitter laugh tears its way out of him. “No such luck.”

Keith’s hand is on his back, rubbing small circles. He gets up. “I think that’s enough for now.” Shiro doesn’t protest, even though the loss of contact is almost physically painful. He just sits, head hanging, drenched in sweat, completely drained.

He’s roused from his fugue by a glass of water held in front of his face, and drinks it as if it’s Lethe, as if it will take away the memories tormenting him.

Keith’s looking at him, and Shiro searches his face carefully for any hint of pity. There’s none. “It’s almost time for dinner. Are you hungry?”

He’s ravenous, but he’s not quite sure he can stand up right now. “I’ll meet you there.”

Keith gazes at him intently, then nods. “See you in a few minutes.”

Once he’s gone, Shiro strips off his sweaty clothes, turns his shower on as hot as he can stand and tries to drown himself.

***

He’s not sure how long he stays in the shower, but by the time he heads to the mess hall Keith has already served himself and looks up with relief at Shiro’s entrance.

Shiro manages to sit down across from him slowly, not as if his legs are having trouble supporting him, and Keith serves him some food goo without comment.

When Shiro reaches for his spoon, he flinches at the sight of his prosthetic arm, puts it in his lap and eats awkwardly with his left hand. Keith notices, but he doesn’t say anything.

He sits in silence for a long time after he finishes. There’s no one else in the mess hall this early, and Keith doesn’t press him. At last he moves to get up. “I’m gonna…” he makes a vague gesture whose meaning even he isn’t sure of and gets up from the table.

He’s slightly surprised when Keith follows him back to his room. All he wants to do is sleep, but he doesn’t sleep through the night at the best of times, which this isn’t.

He stands awkwardly, unsure of what to do with Keith there.

“Get ready for bed,” Keith says, motioning to the bathroom.

There’s not much to do, just changing into pajamas and brushing his teeth, but still, when he leaves the bathroom he expects to find Keith gone.

He’s not.

“Will you stay?”

Keith nods, as if he expected the question, and moves the chair closer to the bed. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

Shiro lies down, trying to relax, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t toss and turn, but only because Keith’s watching him. After about fifteen minutes, he realizes how selfish he’s being. “Keith, you don’t have to stay–“

“I don’t mind.”

He’s pathetic enough that he doesn’t protest again.

He doesn’t sleep either.

Finally Keith sighs and stands up and Shiro thinks he’s going to leave, but instead he takes off his boots and comes over to the bed.

“Move over,” he says, and Shiro’s so surprised he does.

It’s only after Keith’s climbed under the blankets that he seems to realize what he’s doing. “I-is this okay? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–“

He starts to move away and Shiro shoots out a hand without thinking, grabbing Keith’s gloved hand in his own. “Don’t leave me!”

He cringes at how that sounds, but Keith’s eyes soften, and he says “I won’t.”

But that sets Shiro’s thoughts on another track, the confident, teasing goodbyes on the launchpad disguising how they both really feel, the thought of _Keith_ burning in his mind through the pain when he’s forgotten the Garrison, forgotten Earth, forgotten everything…

“I’m sorry I didn’t come back.”

Keith props up on an elbow to look at him. “What?”

“From Kerberos. I’m sorry I didn’t come back.”

Keith’s brows go down. “Shiro, you _did_ come back. It just took a little longer than I expected.”

He shakes his head, not really registering the words. “I should have come back.”

Keith takes hold of his chin, forcing his eyes up. “Shiro. I forgive you.”

His breath catches, and he feels tears sliding down his cheeks. Keith doesn’t say anything, just gathers him up and pulls him in.

He should be fighting this, but he’s so tired of fighting. He buries his face in Keith’s shoulder and cries.

***

He pulls away finally, disgusted with himself, but Keith just gives him that soft smile. “You okay now?”

Shiro snorts. “No.”

Keith nods sympathetically, gets up and goes to the bathroom, comes back with a damp cloth so Shiro can fix the wreck of his face.

When he’s back, though, the awkwardness returns. Keith lies stiffly on the edge of the bed, and Shiro presses himself against the wall, since Keith obviously doesn’t want to be touched.

He eventually falls asleep, exhausted by everything that’s happened today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro talks through more of his experiences with the Galra with Keith and Keith shows up at his door again. This time, things don't go so smoothly.

Keith is gone when he wakes up, and Shiro suppresses the irrational disappointment he feels at that.

Breakfast is the same as it always is. Keith doesn’t mention what happened last night, and Shiro follows his lead.

They answer a distress call from a colony that the Galra have invaded and manage to drive them away, then sit graciously at the feast held by the grateful inhabitants.

He sleeps easier for a few days, the talk with Keith letting out some of the pressure.

But too soon he can feel it building again, the night-terrors returning, sending him sitting bolt upright in bed, then fleeing to the training room to lose himself in parry and thrust.

So he seeks out Keith again, and he listens while Shiro tells him about his first time in the Arena, saving Matt the only way he knows how, despite the guilt and fear that now that he’s hurt the Galra will dispose of him. Keith knows a little bit about the fight already, since the Robeast they fought was using the same tactics, but Shiro tells him the rest and Keith listens quietly, not judging, giving a reassuring word every now and again, or an arm around his shoulders when Shiro’s voice breaks and he can’t continue.

Shiro thanks him when he’s done, his voice raw and tears on his cheeks, but Keith just shakes his head and says “You’ve helped me so many times before. I’m glad to return the favor.”

Shiro’s getting ready for bed a few hours later when he hears the buzz that there’s someone at his door. Surprised, he opens it to find Keith there, in pajamas.

Neither of them says anything as Shiro lets him in and finishes getting ready for bed.

In the dim light from the stripping around the walls, Shiro thinks of asking why Keith’s here, but he doesn’t want to bring it up, not when the mattress dips beneath Keith’s weight and he can feel the nightmares close to the surface.

***

_The light around him is crackling and purple. He can’t move. There are whispers, growing closer, then a robed form hovering over him. There’s a voice, calling his name. The form grows closer, shakes his shoulder–_

And suddenly he's on top of Keith, pinning him down, Galra arm around his throat. Keith’s eyes are wide in the darkness.

Shiro pulls away with a cry, fleeing somewhere…the bathroom, he realizes, engaging the door lock. He huddles in the corner, hugging his knees. _No. Nonono,_ Keith!

There’s a knock on the door, then Keith’s voice. “Shiro? Shiro, let me in!”

He doesn’t, _can’t_ answer. He could have hurt Keith, could have _killed_ him, all because of a stupid nightmare…

The door opens as Keith hits the emergency override. He takes a step toward him. “Shiro–“

“ _Don’t!_ ”

Keith stops, his eyes distressed, but sinks to the floor where he’s standing. “Shiro,” he says again. “Shiro, it’s alright.”

The laugh that tears its way from his throat is more than half-sob. “No, it’s not. I could have hurt you…”

“But you didn’t,” Keith says softly.

“But I _could_ have!”

“But you _didn’t!_ ” Keith insists. “Even coming out of the grip of a nightmare, you recognized me and you _stopped._ ”

Shiro just shakes his head mutely.

“Besides, it was my fault anyway,” Keith continues, making Shiro’s head shoot up. “I tried to ease you out of it, but you wouldn’t wake up, so I jolted you–“

“Keith, no…”

Keith gets up slowly and offers him a hand. After a long moment, Shiro takes it and lets Keith lead him back out to the bedroom.

He hesitantly sits down on the bed when Keith beckons him. He can’t help but notice that Keith has settled down closer to the wall this time. _Leaving him an escape…?_

Shiro faces away from the wall, doesn’t touch Keith. Doesn’t _trust_ himself to.

It takes him a long time to fall asleep again.

***

Shiro wakes up again a few hours later to an unfamiliar feeling of _safety_. Rather than jolting awake, he drifts into consciousness, momentarily confused to why he feels so relaxed and comfortable.

Then he sees that he’s turned over in his sleep and that Keith has shifted over to nestle against his chest. Seeing that, Shiro tenses up, and Keith stirs.

For a moment after his eyes flutter open, Keith smiles, but then his expression morphs into horror and he pulls away. “ _Shit,_ sorry, I– I was asleep, I didn’t realize…”

“It’s okay, Keith,” Shiro says dully, refusing to let himself think about it. “It’s about time to get up anyway.”

Keith nods, his lips tight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things finally come to a head when Keith shows up unbidden at Shiro's door.

They fall into a routine after that. Whenever Shiro starts getting twitchy he goes to Keith to talk, and that night Keith silently shows up at his door to share his bed.

They never discuss it.

After the first time, if Shiro wakes up first, he stays perfectly still, trying to keep from waking Keith, since the moment he realizes Shiro is awake, he’ll zoom away as if he’s been burned, cursing and stammering apologies.

Shiro tells himself he does it for Keith.

That’s partially true. Keith never had many people looking out for him, no one to give him physical affection, and after Shiro disappeared he spent months alone in the desert, so it’s no surprise that he’s touch-starved.

It seems to help. Keith will sling an arm around Lance’s shoulders, lean up against Hunk in the lounge, and once he even dared to tousle Pidge’s hair, eliciting an outraged shriek of “I WILL TIE YOUR EARS AROUND YOUR HEAD!”

Shiro’s feeling better too, whether from the talking or the contact, more comfortable in his own skin, less likely to blame himself if a flashback happens during a mission.

The flashbacks are getting less intense, too, and the nightmares less frequent. They usually come when he’s sleeping alone.

He can’t bring himself to think about that too much.

***

When the knock comes on his door one night, though, Shiro’s confused. He hadn’t talked to Keith today.

When he opens the door, Keith is standing there, hands in his pockets and shifting from foot to foot.

One look at his expression stills any comments Shiro might make, and he just stands aside to let Keith in.

When they settle down, Keith wedges himself against the wall, arms around his chest, hugging himself.

Shiro wants to reach out, but he’s not quite sure how.

***

Shiro wakes first, but for once Keith hasn’t glommed onto him. He’s facing the wall, his back stiff even in sleep.

Shiro props himself on an elbow, looking at him. Why would Keith screw up the courage to come here and then stifle his natural inclination for physical contact? For that matter, _how_ had he managed it?

He can’t bear to look at Keith’s huddled form any longer, so he reaches out, carefully, and turns him over.

Keith mumbles something, but doesn’t wake. Shiro waits a long moment, then draws Keith in, settling his head on his shoulder.

Keith stiffens a moment and then sighs, and his hands come around Shiro’s shoulders.

Shiro smiles and falls back asleep.

***

When he wakes up, Keith’s gone.

***

Keith doesn’t meet his eyes all day, but Shiro’s made a decision. They’ve danced around this long enough.

That night he changes into his pajamas and walks out of his room. He stands in front of Keith’s door for a moment, taking a deep breath, then knocks.

After a long moment the door opens. Keith’s eyes widen when he sees him. “Shiro…”

“Hi, Keith. Can I come in?”

Keith’s mouth opens and shuts a few times, but he moves back enough to let Shiro in.

When all Keith does is stare at him for a long moment, Shiro says “Finish getting ready for bed.”

Keith turns to the bathroom, wincing as his hip jostles an end table. He drops his toothbrush three times before he manages to keep a hold of it.

When he’s done, he comes out, biting his lip and staring at the floor. Shiro can’t stand to see that expression directed at him from Keith.

“You came to my room last night. Even though we hadn’t talked that day.”

“I-I know, I…I’m sorry, I just–“

“Keith,” Shiro cuts him off. “You’re welcome any time.”

Keith meets his eyes for the first time, his expression wary. “You…you mean it?”

Shiro’s heart breaks. “Of _course_ I mean it, you’ve been such a help to me these past few weeks. Hell, if it weren’t for you I’d still be locked up in the Garrison!”

“If it weren’t for you, I’d…” Keith stops, running a hand through his hair, and his expression is so open, so close to tears, that there’s only one thing Shiro can do.

Keith tries to pull away from the hug for a moment, before he makes a broken sound and wraps his arms around Shiro. Shiro holds him, stroking his hair, as the shoulder of his nightshirt becomes damp.

When it seems like Keith wants to pull away, Shiro gives him a final squeeze and lets him.

Keith wipes his eyes, sniffling, and Shiro asks him “Why did you follow me to my room that first night?”

“I…I knew you have nightmares,” Keith says hesitantly. “And I figured…”

Shiro nods. “And last night?”

Keith swallows. “I just…I couldn’t sleep, and I’m always more rested when…but I couldn’t…”

Shiro puts his hands on Keith’s shoulders and touches their foreheads together. “I always sleep better when I’m with you too…but you always pulled away when you woke up.”

Keith’s trembling, shaking his head. “I couldn’t…”

Shiro puts his arm around him again. “You can. You won’t scare me away.”

“Shiro…”

He wipes a tear away from Keith’s cheek with his thumb, then takes his hand and pulls him down to the bed.


End file.
